Joy, laughter,
The smile on her face gives me a pleasant sensation
The way her eyes can light up a room
She makes everyone feel something they have never felt
When I ask around about her I get the same response:
“She's happy”
“She's kind”
“She listens”
“She's helpful”
“She's perfect.”
She's perfect?
How so, how is she so perfect?
How can one person be so happy and so thoughtful all the time?
Every second of every day
How can this be possible?
How can nobody notice
I can see it
I see it every day
I see the pain
The guilt
The regret
The tears
The scars
The makeup
I never see her stop
She's never home
She makes something of herself
She works herself
She makes her body do these incredible things
She never stops.
She's miserable
She is not this joyful happy person everyone claims her to be
Yeah she's a great listener but she consumes herself
Consumes herself in pain
Not just hers but everyone else's
She can't take it
I see her eyes slowly start to fade
Day
After day
After day
She's dying
She can't take it
She can't look at herself
She's done
People are noticing
Her mask is fading
She's not so joyful
She's not as happy
She doesn't listen anymore
She wore the mask so people didn't have to know
That the unthinkable was true
But it is.
Her mask is broken
People know
Everybody knows
And as the tears hit the floor
She looks up at her reflection
And staring back at her
Is me.
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